


The Bootneck in Blues

by Pandemic



Series: bootnecks [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:04:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandemic/pseuds/Pandemic
Summary: "Let me just wrap my head around this." Snap's words are venom, spitting. "At the opening ceremony of the Invictus Games of which you are Patron and Honoured Guest, you met Finn Trooper. Brigadier Finn Trooper, one of a handful of very powerful Royal Marines, one of the most decorated soldiers in all the armed forces. One of the few men alive who can claim to be a recipient of the Victoria Cross. And when you met him, rather than thank him for his service as you SHOULD, you proceeded to proposition him like he was some third rate hooker? Have you taken leave of your senses."Poe is vividly aware of the eyes that are now curiously gazing on the scene before them, and he's worried Snap is about to have a heart attack, "Jeez Snap I didn't expect his achievements in a highlight reel, when you say it like that it just sounds bad."Poe is very aware that this is almost as bad as that time in Belgium.





	The Bootneck in Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gift With Purchase](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116620) by [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/pseuds/sabrecmc). 



A few hours before, it went something like this.

“Rey, I’m not sure about this. Honestly.” Finn says, nerves skittering. He doesn’t do public events let alone public speaking to a crowd the size of the one awaiting him. “Can’t you just go up and talk for me? I can give you my speech.” He protests weakly.

Rey scoffs, giving him a look quintessentially _her_ that Finn is surprised she hasn’t patented it, “Yeah because it would make sense for me, a mechanic, to speak on behalf of Royal Marine Veterans. Total sense.” She drops the last sentence in a deadpan, only the smile on her face betrays her.

Finn straightens his collar for the fiftieth time. He hasn’t had chance to wear his Blues for a while, and he’s forgotten the instinctual squaring of his shoulders as he shrugs himself into the familiar jacket. It always reminds him of the memory of his foster mother brushing imaginary lint off his collar during his pass out parade.

_“Remember who you represent my darling.” She’d said, eyes brimming. “You will do amazing things. I know you will.”_

Every time he reached for his green beret, or peaked cap, he remembers her. He thanks her for corralling a young angry boy into the Marines, seeing the talent in him that he himself could not. The Corps forged him into a man, whilst giving him brothers in arms for life.

Speaking of.

“Have you heard from Slip?” Finn asks Rey, who shrugs in response. Slip is, for a Marine, notoriously shit with timekeeping. In the halls they used to joke he’d be late for his own funeral. Like clockwork, Finn’s phone rings barely two seconds before Finn answers.

_“Yo bootneck, I’m not far but I’ll warn you, I’m staying for your speech and that’s it. We’ve all got a run ashore for tonight and tomorrow before we’re being pinged back so reckon we should get utterly minging.”_ Slip spoke without really waiting for Finn’s answer. He was sheer power of personality. Together he and Finn worked well as friends. Finn’s boundless energy and positivity balanced by Slips’ cynical black humour.

 “Well cheers for that then, you don’t have to suffer through it if you don’t want to.” Finn half jokes, slightly worried at the thought of twenty giddy young Marines at a press event with bottomless alcohol.

_“You kidding? None of us would miss the chance to hear your dulcet tones babe.”_ And Finn can almost _feel_ Slips grin through the phone, _“I just want to see Nine’s attempt at chatting up woman, he’s plums cause he hasn’t bagged off in ages.”_

“Alright Slip, that’s enough filth for me right now, I’ll see you there.” And once he gets a similar response back he hangs up, turning to Rey.

“Slip still Slip?” she quirks an eyebrow to which Finn laughs and nods. Grabbing his cap, he fits it on his head with a tug, and stares forward at his reflection. Rey wolf whistles.

“Boy does my lad scrub up goooooood!” She crows.

* * *

“Seriously though, why am I attending this thing?” Poe moans, draping himself over his aunt’s desk with a perfected sulk. He’d tested it on Jessika earlier that day, who had chased him out her office with a shout and a collection of projectile pencils.

“It’s the start of the Invictus Games, of which you are now one of the main Patrons of considering Han is being… Han. You are former Air Force. You are my nephew. Must I continue?” Leia sighs and looks up with an eyebrow tremoring in a fashion that reminds Poe of just how many people she has stared into submission. Leia is a tour de force, a matriarch to end all matriarchs. She charms so well people find themselves having donated millions to her many causes without quite realising what has happened in the wake of her smile.

Poe has learnt his charm from her, with a bit of his own blend of lechery thrown in. He knows, as the future head of Falcon Enterprise, that he has big shoes to fill. Leia cannot afford for anything to go wrong after Ben decided to go his own way in dramatic fashion. So he jokes, but he’ll always step up. He knows it, and Leia knows too. Which is probably why she allows him to drape in a pretend sulk, watching the suit jacket he wears crinkle against the papers atop the oak.

“Dameron. Get the hell out of my office.” She says with a grin, and he obliges quickly. There is a Leia rank of rude words, and the moment she starts it descends badly.

He saunters out and sees Snap approaching him with a vaguely harried look, falling into step with Poe easily as they then both take off down the corridor together in perfect sync. 

“So I have your speech here.” Snap starts handing sheet after sheet of paperwork, much to Poe’s disgust, “Pava and I have composed a list of who’s who that you should look over so we can make sure we don’t offend anyone. We can’t afford another Belgium.” Snap looks knowingly at Poe, who just sighs and takes the papers offered to him without protest.

“I still maintain she was up for it.” Poe raises his hands in defiance, “Her hands were wandering to places unfit for an ambassador."

“The Ambassador to Nigeria, three-time Mount Everest climber and celebrated journalist, Madeline Okoro was not “up for it”.” Snap uses air quotes liberally, and Poe grins.

* * *

 

The event itself is huge. For all his talk and protests earlier, the Invictus Games is one of the more awe inspiring things Poe has the opportunity to be a part of. Men and woman of incredible personal strength turning tragedy into superhuman triumph. 

Well. It would bring a tear to a glass eye, Han would say with a smirk.

It’s early yet, there are traditions and speeches and awards to be handed out before the night truly begins. Poe’s dark blue mess jacket is off already and hooked across the back of his chair. It’s warm, the autumn air fairly hot and balmy against his skin.

A burst of noise comes from the doorway, like a cut off laugh. Poe turns to see a shock of green against the otherwise fairly dull room of black or blue suits. About fifteen or so Marines pour in, all laughter and smiles.

Despite the apparent rivalry between all the military forces, Poe has always had a deep rooted respect for the Green Berets of the UK. He cocks his head in a nod to the man at the front of the group, a fairly spindly thing for a Commando uniform, who catches his eye and nods back in a timeless display of respect to each other. The man turns and throws his arm around the one man who stands out.

The first reason, but not the main reason, he sticks out, is because he is full dress uniform. The main reason to Poe however that this man sticks out, is just how _well_ he wears that uniform. Broad shoulders fill every inch of the deep navy jacket, his chocolate skin a shock against the white and red of his hat. He reaches up to take that very hat off and tuck it under his arm looking around the room. And the moment he connects eyes with Poe is the moment Poe is utterly done for. Eyes so dark Poe wants to dive right in stare straight at him, and Poe can do nothing but stare straight back. The man gulps, drawing Poe’s attention to his throat, before he moves on.

Poe’s suddenly wishing he read Snap’s little encyclopaedia of names.

* * *

Finn doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous in his _life._ Even his passing out was less nerve wracking than this. And that is saying something, because that was the infamous day he threw up in Slip’s mess boots. Rey stands by his side, looking utterly stunning as is her way. Her silver dress catches the light every move and flitters, matching the beaming smile she wears across her face.

She catches the tremor in his grin and squeezes his arm in silent support. Slip claps both his shoulders from behind, and Nine’s follows through with a stage-whispered, “If your speech is half as good as this champagne you’ll be Gucci.”

Finn truly loves his friends. 

He rolls his shoulders back, straightens his already straight tie, and strides forward to the bar. He’s been prepped of course, by the DS team at CTC.

“ _Two drink maximum before the speech and for an hour after whilst you make pleasantries. No inflammatory comments, remember who you represent. After that you are off the clock so enjoy the run ashore.”_ Phasma had drilled into him with precision only capable of the most terrifying person in the entirety of the Corps. Women weren’t able to serve in the Marines, so the running joke was Phasma had simply intimidated the Commander General into letting her into the PR team. The words echoed those of his foster mum, and Finn’ll be damned if he lets either of them down. The Marines made him into the man he is today, and took his broken parts and stitched them back together at Hasler Company after Operation Starkiller. This is the least he can offer in return.

So after the second drink he’s nursed for longer than is strictly acceptable is bone dry, he returns to the bar and signals for attention.

“Just a glass of water please.” And the bartender shoots him an incredulous glance before shrugging and reaching for a cup.

“Water already? You boys can’t handle your liquor?” A voice chide from behind him, and Finn spins on his heel.

If not for the strict limit placed on his alcohol intake, Finn would have claimed the wobble his knees immediately betray was due to the vodka.

It’s not. 

His reaction belongs to the smile staring straight back at him. It’s as bright as the unbearable D’Qar sun Finn melted under for sixteen months. Finn clocks the suit, the epaulettes.

 “I’m – I’m afraid us Commandos at least attempt to hide our unhealthy relationship with alcohol unlike those of Air Force.” Finn bites back in banter than is as old as the institutions they both represent. Of course he’s Air Force, he looks like he belongs to the skies. All slicked back hair and a smile as smooth as silk. A curl breaks free from its gelled constraints.

Finn stifles an urge to reach forward and smooth it back himself.

The gentlemen throws back his head to laugh and Finn’s gaze immediately zeroes in on his exposed throat. _Lord_ he hasn’t felt attraction this immediate in a time far too long. He doesn’t know quite what to do to shut it down, and instead finds himself helpless in the face of the lust surging through him. Holy _shit_.

The man quietens and throws Finn a look that lasts a touch too long to be polite, “Shame.” He murmurs, voice deep and dark, “Would be nice to see how long it would take you to get a bit loosened up.”

And Finn’s not quite sure how to take that, but the slow and dirty smile the man follows the statement up with suggests to Finn it was probably something as carnal as his brain screams at him. He lifts an arm robotically. 

“I’m Finn Trooper.” He offers, and his companion stares down at his offered hand for a moment before seeming to shake himself and push out his own in return.

“Poe. Poe Dameron.” Poe grins, and the moment their hands connect Finn swallows a gasp. His skin literally tingles.

He feels like a fucking Disney character. And he doesn’t think he’s imagining the way Poe’s eyes darken either.

Poe still has hold of his hand, fingers stroking idly at the inside of Finn's wrist and he thinks that's what makes him bold, this heady rush of attraction that seems to be reciprocated, "I'm here on shore leave." Finn says stupidly, unable to form any more words, "What brings you here?"

Poe looks down at their connecting hands, his grin turning filthy, “I'm here for this and that. I'm an honourable discharge, so permanent shore leave for me." he says almost apologetically.

"I bet you were an amazing pilot. I'd love to have seen you fly." Finn blurts out and  _oh my god please someone just shoot him now_ _he sounds like a moonstruck teenager._ But for the look of wonderment it grants him in return he can't even bring himself to apologise.

"I like to think I was the best pilot they had." Poe shrugs, trying to act modest and failing. Finn laughs and squeezes the hand still in his grasp. Poe's smile turns calculating, and a touch lust heavy.

"Listen I know this is forward but if you are here on shore leave and don’t have a lot of time I want to get to know you away from this event and out of those clothes. I have a suite upstairs and know you’d look so gorgeous against my sheets.” He blurts out on a gasp, slipping his room key into Finn's pocket with his free hand, and Finn’s about to reply with a positive when he hears his name being called by Slip who is across the room. And oh shit he’s still got to go give a speech with his dick at half-mast in his blues.

He extracts himself from Poe’s enigmatic grip, mutters apologies, and runs for the stage, trying to shake himself of the feelings Poe Dameron unearthed in himself.

* * *

Poe’s still licking his wounds when Snap sidles up beside him at the table.

Stupid, _stupid, stupid._ What was Poe thinking? Did the absolute word vomit he felt when Finn’s eyes were on him have to erupt immediately? Was Finn’s touch some sort of truth seeking missile? That was possibly the most horrendous piece of ‘smooth’ talking he’d ever attempted, and it had ended in the other man _literally_ running away from him.

And it didn’t even hurt to watch that _glorious_ ass leave. Poe had to give credit where it was due to the Marines, they knew how to _build_ a man.

“Where have you been?” Snap asks in hushed tones. On stage Admiral Ackbar is congratulating and clapping about something, Poe’s not sure what.

 “Nowhere. Talking to guests. The bar. Stop questioning me.” Poe whines and Snap rolls his eyes before focusing on the stage. Poe sinks his head into his hands before doing the same, tuning into what seems like a lengthy welcome speech.

“Most if not all of you will be aware of the actions of the young man I’m about to present to you. In the face of one of the most hostile and violent outbreaks on the D’Qar front during Operation Starkiller, several of 42 Commando of the Royal Marines were taken hostage for six months. They were tortured, brainwashed, indoctrinated. It seemed impossible for even the combined efforts of both UK and American military forces to get them out alive. But one man took it upon himself to see the return of his injured and beaten troops, or die trying. With complete disregard for his own personal safety, this man not only drew enemy fire and scrutiny away from his brothers in arms to allow them to sneak out undetected, but when a battle casualty occurred, he repeatedly exposed himself – whilst injured – to enemy fire to draw it away from the treatment his brother was receiving. This was all well above what would be expected of his station as a Second Lieutenant. Recipient of the Victoria Cross, may I present to you, Brigadier Finn Trooper!”

At those last words Poe chokes on air.

He’s so utterly fucked. He just propositioned a man with enough power in the Royal Marines he had his own NATO security code. 

Finn steps up to the stage with quiet authority Poe hadn’t been quite aware the man possessed. He stands behind the podium, falling into a parade’s rest before looking out to the crowd and holy shit Poe is so _utterly ridiculously screwed._ He’d like to say in more than one, but at this point he’s pretty sure Leia is going to set him alight.

* * *

 

_God the lights are so bright_ is all that’s running through Finn’s mind as he marches onto the stage in a similar fashion as he would to his death. He’s still reeling from the enigmatic Poe Dameron, and his blatant forwardness and interest. And he’d be lying if he wasn’t interested. Still, he shakes himself free of his idle thoughts and coughs.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen." Finn coughs awkwardly and pauses, searching the crowd for Rey's eyes. They stare back at him and nod, face brimming with pride. He can do this, he gives debriefs to his superiors without breaking a sweat, he can face down Phasma on a point of budgeting without crying, this should be a cake walk, "When I was asked to speak at this event by the Corps, I laughed. Was a similar reaction to when I was nominated for the Victoria Cross. To be put alongside all those who have received the Victoria Cross is hugely humbling, and a great honour. I am very grateful to the Marines for the family they have provided me with, and would do anything to protect them. However all the lads in my unit, and indeed any unit in any Force, will know it's not something you seek out or aim to achieve. On the day, in the moment, it comes down to what you will do for your brothers, and both I and they know it very easily could be one of them stood here right now." He swallows past a lump forming in his throat as Slip roars a proud, sharp cheer in the silence.

"If you spent every morning, every day, wondering what is the worst that could happen next, afraid to live the day, you wouldn't get out of bed in the morning. The Commandos motto is "By Sea, By Land" and I have always taken that to mean the adaptability us bootnecks can apply to any situation. During those months, there was no point I ever thought we wouldn't get out of there. To me, it was simply a matter of time. The boys know that all the way from heartbreak lane, to being beasted on the bottom field, everyday in the Marines is a test and for me this test was only different in terms of the insurgents being friendlier than Colonel Hux on a good day."

This drew a laugh from the Commandos table, and Rey sticking a hand to the air in a thumbs up fashion. Finn grins, and rolls his shoulders into the authority he knows he possesses. His nerves calm, and he knows he can do this. He feels his foster mother smiling on him.

* * *

After the rapturous applause Finn's speech receives dies down, Poe spins to Snap with panic crowding his face. "Snap, I've done a very very bad thing." Poe glances at the stage, sees Finn step off and roll his  _gloriously broad_ shoulders out, drawing attention to the muscled definition his very tailored military blues do  _nothing_ to hide. He swallows, " _Very_ bad."

Snap turns to face him, still muttering about good looking Marines taking all the thunder and hero work, "Hmm?" he muses, still distracted. To be honest, Poe doesn't even blame him. Finn fills out those trousers in a way he has no business doing in a public space.

"So. I may have met Finn Trooper before his speech. At the bar. I also may have not realised who he was." Poe raises his arm, sheepish, to run it through his hair self-consciously as Snaps eyes widen in horror.

"Oh god what did you  _do_?" Snap moans.

"I may have suggested in slightly more words that we blow this popsicle stand in favour of my bedroom to see how good he looked naked." Poe says weakly, "I also may have slipped him my hotel room key."

Snap stares in unadulterated horror.

"I don't even have another room key. I'll have to go get one from reception." Poe follows up, like that's even the main issue right now, feeling the fire building and rage in Snap's eyes.

"Let me just wrap my head around this." Snap's words are venom, spitting. "At the opening ceremony of the Invictus Games of which  _you are Patron_ _and Honoured Guest_ , you met Finn Trooper. Brigadier Finn Trooper, one of a handful of very powerful Royal Marines, one of the most decorated soldiers in all the armed forces. One of the few men alive who can claim to be a recipient of the Victoria Cross. A man who was dubbed "The Hero of D'Qar" and who was instrumental in Operation Starkiller, one of the biggest force initiatives which included cooperation from U.S. forces that  _he himself_ spearheaded. A man Obama called "the hero of our generation" and a man who stormed 13 insurgents single handedly whilst fighting sleep deprivation, starvation and torture. A man who, in his spare time, is quoted to volunteer at the RSPCA dog shelter close to his home that he, and I quote, 'hasn't moved from so he can be close to his foster mother's grave'." Snap finishes, eyes wild, "And when you met him, rather than thank him for his service as you SHOULD, you proceeded to proposition him like he was some third rate hooker?  _Have you taken leave of your senses."_

Poe is vividly aware of the eyes that are now curiously gazing on the scene before them, and he's worried Snap is about to have a heart attack, "Jeez Snap I didn't expect his achievements in a highlight reel, when you say it like that it just sounds bad."

"Poe. Fix it. Fix it now, otherwise there won't be a later because the next phone call I get will be from Leia asking me to dispose of your body." Snap mutters, gesticulating wildly towards the crowd now congregating around the soldier.

_Well. Can't be said Poe doesn't know how to pick them._ Poe thinks to himself as he wanders toward the man shrouded in light and energy.

* * *

Finn's not sure what quite happens but suddenly there is applause and laughter and he's staggering off the stage like a weight's just been lifted off his shoulders into Rey and Slip and Nines and Zeroes waiting arms. He's immediately surrounded by arms and hugs and laughter.

" _Mate_ , you were fucking incredible." Zeroes speaks, voice deadpan but eyes sparkling, "Abbey would be proud." and at the mention of his foster mother Finn's eyes well. The two share a moment of connection through the broken homes (but strong as fuck maternal figures) they share before letting it break naturally. Zeroes doesn't speak much, but when he does everyone listens. He's been through hell and back, the cigarette burns that scatter his arms under the rolled back fatigues he wears speaks as much, but he came out the other side with a wicked black humour and a ride or die attitude. Finn would have no one else watching his six.

"Did you see the cameras videoing it? They were from BBC! Dude you are gonna get so  _fucking laid!_ " Slip crows, a tinge of wistfullness riding his words, but mostly filled with joy, "And I'm gonna get so much second hand fame its gonna be great!"

Rey shoulders her way through, no small feat when the crowd between her and Finn are a bunch of fit Marines, to tackle Finn in a hug so fierce Finn can feel the air leaving him, "So proud of you big bro." she mutters into his chest, and Finn reaches round to hug her just as fiercely back.

"Gentlemen and ... lady, we have someone wanting to wish congratulations and meet you, look sharp." Nines gently tries to pull the moment back, get everyones attention. Finn looks up and staring right back at him is Poe Dameron. He's still as gorgeous as he was an hour ago, but there's something.. off. He looks between Finn and Rey, still wrapped up together, eyes sharpening. Finn gently detaches himself from his little mechanics grip and reaches forward to shake Poe's hand for the second time that evening.

"Nice to meet again, sir." Finn speaks first, cause Poe's gaze seems to still be caught on Rey's retreating back. Finn's words startle him out of his reverie, and his smile seems anything but real when he eventually slips it on.

"Please, no sir. Not when you outrank me by several fairly large steps." Poe shakes his hand back, firm, and Finn barely has time for the tingling to set off again up his arm, "I'd just like to say its a pleasure to make your acquaintance properly."

The words are stilted, formal, and Finn hates them already. He can feel Slip's inquisitive gaze on him, feels Poe's room key burning a hole in his pocket. 

"Uhm. Yes, thank you. May I make yours in return?" Finn asks, voice careful. It suddenly feels like he's walking on a tightrope, any wrong question ready to send him pitching off the side.

"Poe Dameron, heir to the Resistance." Poe says this shortly, watching Finn carefully for his reaction. He feels rather than hears Rey's intake of breath behind him, and he has to work hard to stifle one himself. The Resistance is a worldwide organisation that works to defend, to protect, to eradicate poverty, the list is endless. An organisation originally created in the aftermath of the Empire's destruction in the late 1980s, Leia Organa is a household name in the defence of the world.

Poe Dameron. Finn had had very vivid very quick fantasies of sucking  _Poe Dameron, heir to The Resistance's_ , cock. Oh fuck.

"I'll leave you to celebrate with your.. girlfriend and friends. Thank you for your service." Poe finishes, voice subdued and nothing like the heat and promise of before and hold up rewind Finn wants to go back to that. Poe retreats with an awkward smile and Finn's left watching him leave feeling his heart crumple in on itself.

"Well that was fucking weird." Slip says, voice blunt, ignoring Rey's indignant whisper of  _Slip what the fuck._

"We met before. My speech as in. He asked if I wanted to go to his hotel room... after." Finn mumbles, unfortunately not quite quiet enough for Rey to miss.

"Hold on  _what?_ " Rey's voice is incredulous, "He... asked you to... And you said no?!"

"Well I never got round to saying yes. And now I have his room key and..."  _Maybe he doesn't want a broken and bruised Marine_ are the words Finn finishes off in his head. From the look on Rey's face, he can gather she guessed the rest.

"Or perhaps he saw you being congratulated by me, added two and two together, and came up with 2187." Rey suggests, gently pushing in between Finn's shoulder blades, "Now, young padawan, go get some!"

Slip wolf whistles, and the group jeer him into embarrassedly running away before they gain any more attention.

* * *

Of course. For Poe it could only get worse. Not only had he propositioned a decorated war hero, but a decorated  _straight_ war hero with a  _girlfriend._ He's getting really shit at reading signs. Clearly he should just become a hermit. Or maybe a monk ( _he can almost hear Jess's laugh at that suggestion)._

"Mr Dameron?" A voice calls from behind him, and Poe spins and finds himself staring straight at the Commando.

"Poe please." he says as reflex, drinking in the sight of a slightly sweat-sheened Finn.  _Gods_ but the lad was stunning. Honestly fuck his entire life.

"Rey's not my girlfriend, Poe." Finn gets straight to the point with a shock, "A sister by bond, not blood, and a woman I am fiercely protective of and would die for. But never my girlfriend. Aside that time in college, but she's got the wrong parts for me."

" _Oh_?" Poe's voice squeaks, and he coughs, next words deeper, "Oh? What, uh, what parts are right then?"  _Jesus Christ Dameron why are you a walking mistake._

"Uh." Finn's words are quiet, but it doesn't mean Poe can't hear them, "Well, yours, hopefully. If I play my cards right." Poe chokes out a laugh, "Or better, my one and only card." holding Poe's room key aloft, the Marine connects eyes with Poe and bites his lip.

Poe can already feel that this man is going to be the death of him, "Well then  _Brigadier_ , lead the way."

The leers and jeers from Finn's table as they pass hurriedly hand in hand is hilarious, the ferocious glare from Snap that means _we'll talk about this later, perhaps with Leia present,_ is almost not worth the embarrassment. The smile Finn grants him, lit from within, filled with filth and promise, is.

**Author's Note:**

> This was mainly an excuse to imagine Finn as a bootneck, glorious as the fantasy was. A filthy epilogue should follow this in the next couple of days.
> 
> I have a military background with my stepfather as a Royal Marine and I have a ridiculous amount of respect for them, hope that shines through.
> 
> Dictionary:  
> Bootneck: royal marine  
> CTC: commando training centre  
> DS: directing staff  
> Run Ashore: day's leave, typically spent getting exceptionally drunk on a night with other commandos.  
> Civvies: civilians  
> Gucci: good, typically referring to new kit being 'gucci'  
> Heartbreak lane: last part of the endurance course at the CTC (i did this as part of the meet the marines day and let me tell you i wanted to die)  
> Pinged: 'volunteered' for a shift or run  
> Minging: very, very drunk  
> Plums: down, glum  
> Bagged off: had sex


End file.
